


On tour: stacks off

by electricblueninja



Category: DBSK | Tohoshinki | TVfXQ | TVXQ, Homin - Fandom, Minho - Fandom
Genre: M/M, the gayest of gay
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-05-05
Updated: 2015-05-20
Packaged: 2018-03-29 03:38:30
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 8,191
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3880813
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/electricblueninja/pseuds/electricblueninja
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Or how things work out when Changmin takes precautions.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> For uknowlov2, who doesn't seem to have an active account, but wanted to know what would happen when Changmin does the sensible thing and locks the door to keep the other hyungs out.
> 
> Disclaimer: to my knowledge I only own my brain.

It had been building up to this for a while, I think. I already knew that I wanted more than I should from our baby boy. Anyone could see he wasn’t a baby anymore, but I didn’t just…you know, notice. There’s noticing and then there’s noticing. I noticed. And kept on noticing. Not so long ago, he would have had to tilt his head up a little to meet my eyes. His shoulder-length hair would slip away from his smooth skin, and his smile would be a little hesitant, a little shy, and sometimes even a little frightened.

Things were different now. I couldn’t say exactly when, but at some point Changmin started looking me straight in the eye. It only made me notice more. And it didn’t help when our manager-hyung decided we’d be room buddies on tour.

‘No one else can handle his…sleeping habits,’ hyung had explained, looking pretty tired himself. ‘I thought maybe Jaejoong could handle it, but he actually threatened to boycott the tour if they had to share a room. He was mostly joking, but…’

I waved a hand to signal acceptance. There was no need to explain. If we upset his lordship, our lives wouldn’t be worth living. And bromance or otherwise, Junsu and Yoochunnie rarely sleep apart. And I’m the leader, after all. Exchanging personal comfort for general harmony is part of the job.

Which is why I was trying very, very hard to focus on my book instead of Changmin, whose singlet was basically transparent and whose already-too-short sweats were rolled up to reveal most of his long, long legs. He sat with his legs folded under the chair at the desk in our shared room, his head bent over a Korean-Japanese dictionary, lips moving silently as he glowed in the lamplight.

Aware that dribbling was not the sort of behavior displayed by a mature, responsible leader, I clamped my eyes back to the page. But after reading the same sentence three times, they crept back up over the top of the magazine to show me that Changmin had started chewing and sucking on the end of his pen.

‘You’ll get ink in your mouth, Changmin-ah,’ I said.

He looked over at me with it still in his mouth. I tried to hold his gaze without turning into a tomato.

‘B-besides, it’s too late for studying,’ I added, to stop the Awkward, slapping the space on the bed beside me, ‘if you don’t know how to say it now, you won’t know before the interview tomorrow morning. Don’t worry about it; it’s what the translators get paid for.’

‘You can only say that because you’re basically fluent,’ he retorted drily, eyeing the magazine I was reading, which was some weekly Japanese movie thing. ‘Characters are the worst.’

He put the pen down (thank fuck) and stood up to stretch (oh no) before joining me on the bed, pushing me over to make enough room for himself. I was on my back, leaning against a mountain of pillows, some of which I may or may not have borrowed from his bed with no intention of returning. I had been lounging with my feet crossed over, but now I adjusted to his presence, propping the magazine up on my knees so we could both see comfortably. He pushed an arm around my shoulders and leaned in to cushion his cheek on my shoulder, and it felt so natural and familiar, just like every other time he’s wanted a little bit of physical contact, except that lately it’s been hard for me not to start breathing like Darth Vader when he does it.

‘How do you do it?’

‘You must think the world of me,’ I snorted. ‘I just skip the ones I don’t know.’

I felt him snuffle a laugh. It was gratifying. ‘You still speak it good, though,’ he said thoughtfully. ‘Did you get a Japanese girlfriend or something?’

It was my turn to laugh. ‘Don’t be an idiot,’ I replied reflexively, giving him a soft bump in the head with my shoulder.

‘Too busy having a career to like anyone?’ He sat up and looked at me.

I kept my eyes trained on the magazine. ‘Something like that.’

It was close enough.

Changmin pressed on playfully, twisting around to interrupt my gaze with his face. ‘You mean you don’t like anyone at all?’ he goaded, smirking.

I knew that he was just in one of his rare playful moods, not so much as an ounce of malice in his words, but it was also a conversation that had to stop.

‘Aigoo, child!’ I sighed, rolling my eyes. I hit him in the back of the head with the magazine and thankfully the words devolved into a wrestling match. I should’ve given the situation more thought, though, because I was already lying down, which put me at a serious disadvantage. Changmin quickly got the upper hand, pinning my hands by my head. As I struggled against his grip, it occurred to me that he was definitely getting stronger. I could see the lean muscle roping his shoulders bunch and ripple as he pushed me down.

He moved a leg up to push my torso down against the bed when there was a ‘What are you guys doing in here?’ from outside. 

Junsu. 

‘Hyung! Hyuuuung! HYUNG! Changmin?’ 

I went completely still, and Changmin wordlessly shoved me back against the mattress, his eyes on the handle of the door.

I stared up at the snowy expanse of his exposed throat, and felt a lump forming in my own, which had two reasons. 

The first was that Changmin looked positively majestic, with his hair sweeping back over his shoulders, his eyebrows arched, and his jaw set. His muscles contracted as he held me down among the pillows. His expression, if I was not mistaken, was one of mild irritation.

The second was the self-disgust I felt at the way my heartbeat accelerated; just from looking at him and thinking I could see such things.

But as the handle began to turn, his eyes narrowed further, and I realised I was not mistaken. That was definitely irritation.

The handle of the door stopped turning abruptly.

I fully believed that the pure force of Changmin’s glare had stopped it for several moments before realising that he must have locked it.

‘I could have sworn…’ came Junsu’s voice, softer, as he spoke to himself, ‘Oh well…Guys! Guys?’ and the sound of his footsteps faded into the distance.

Changmin let out a short sigh that sounded like it might have been satisfaction, then returned his gaze to me.

‘What if that was important?’ I asked, trying to sound leader-ly and irritated.

Changmin replied without missing a beat. ‘It wasn’t. If it really mattered he wouldn’t have gone away, you know that,’ he said. Then, with a sniff, tossing his hair, he added, ‘If it really mattered, it wouldn’t have been Junsu.’

I frowned at him, and he smiled beatifically, rightly thinking that this would get him off the hook for his insolence. ‘Don’t worry so much, hyung. I’m just not in the mood to hang out with anyone.’

His concentration had wandered. I could feel that he was slipping off-guard, and seized my chance. ‘What are you trying to say?’ I said sharply, raising my voice with mock-anger and pushing at him, ‘that I’m no one?’

His reaction time was infuriatingly quick. 

He had one hand over my mouth and the rest of me back against the pillows in an instant, fully prone this time, using his entire body weight. I could feel him tensing to hold me down, and oh—This was not good. 

I inhaled sharply. Changmin could see the concern creep into my expression, and removed his hand. His hair brushed against my cheek. He was close, too close, and the mood was changing rapidly. His eyes were becoming serious. His lips curled into a pensive expression as he stared at me.

‘Never say that, hyung,’ he said. ‘Never say that. You're everything.’

I tried not to notice. Tried to break the tension.

‘Hey fatso,’ I said, ‘You’re crushing me.’

‘Hyung,’ he said, ‘I’m going to kiss you now.’

I stared. 

He didn’t.

He closed his eyes and did exactly what he’d said he would.


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which it's easy to get Yunho hard but hard to get him out of his pants.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I fully intended to write...uh...a different type of intercourse...but Changmin took it out of my hands I'm afraid.

Changmin has never been great at expressing his emotions.

Not in words, anyway.

But what I discovered when he pressed his soft, pillowy lips against mine was that I was going to have to reevaluate what I thought of his nonverbal communication skills.

It sounds like such a simple thing: a kiss. “Lips locking”, et cetera. The word itself sounds so uncomplicated. 

Words do that though. They’re a very one dimensional type of communication. 

I’ve always been more about the body language. It makes sense. Usually. Except for this.

This was a kiss, but it was not _just_ “a kiss”. Changminnie…he’s not good at words _or_ body language. Or—no. I mean, he uses words well. He’s fast and funny. But he doesn’t talk a lot, and _definitely_ not about feelings. We were once asked to describe each other’s best qualities, and the nicest thing he could say in front of me was ‘Yunho-hyung is tall and has a very small face’. Instead, he prefers to show his feelings in gestures. If he’s afraid, he will sidle close, hang onto my forearm, or hide behind me. If he’s feeling happy or playful, then slaps and friendly pummelling are par for the course. But he’s always deeply awkward about compliments and feelings.

So I think maybe I was just as much shocked by what he said first as I was by the kiss itself. 

But ‘Never say that, hyung. Never say that. You're everything’?

I mean, with the kiss, at least I got fair warning.

I just sort of stared at his eyelids while it was happening, but _afterwards_ , _after_ he pulled his head back and looked me in the eyes, the potency of it hit me like two barrels of buckshot.

‘Are you crazy? What the hell are you doing?’ said my mouth, with anger I wasn’t feeling.

The corner of his mouth twitched up into a smirk. ‘Come on, hyung, you know what kissing is.’

I felt one of his hands in my hair, and he closed his eyes and dipped his head towards mine once more. 

Then paused, millimetres away. 

So close that I could almost feel the drag of his baby stubble, still bordering on soft, against my skin. 

I was pulverised. I couldn’t kiss him. 

I couldn’t.

His eyes opened, huge and dark and unfamiliar up this close, looking straight into mine, thoughtful and calculating. 

‘No?’ he said, but it wasn’t what he meant. 

I knew exactly what he meant.

‘But you seem so…resolute,’ he added, still so close that he was speaking _on_ me rather than to me. 

I swallowed hard. ‘I’m not a pervert,’ I protested, but even I could hear the weakness in my voice, and he drew back just enough that I could see his smirk widen. ‘I’m—’

‘Defensive.’ He placed the hand not in my hair gently on my cheek. ‘A bad liar. Guilty. Desperate.’ 

The really frightening bit was that none of these were questions. 

‘Let me help you, hyung. I’m not asking you to—’

‘You didn’t ask anything!’ I interrupted hotly, this time with genuine resentment.

Changmin made a hissing _tch_ noise through his teeth and narrowed his eyes. Raising an eyebrow, he sat up, sat back, and looked pointedly down at my crotch. 

I covered myself defensively with one hand, wishing I’d had the sense to wear sturdy underwear. Anything sturdier than boxers, which had been a bad, bad idea. 

‘It just happens,’ I said hastily, ‘you know it just—’

Changmin pulled my hand away, pressing it back down against the mattress. His full mouth was compressed into a thin, hard line. His expression was unforgiving. ‘I’m familiar with your anatomy,’ he observed matter-of-factly.

‘No,’ I said pointlessly, reflexively, my brain filling with embarrassment like a sponge does with water, crowding out rational thought. ‘I know…I don’t…I mean…’

‘You mean “I want you and I don’t know how to ask”,’ he said, ‘and I mean I am tired of your shit.’ 

As he said it, he held onto my gaze with his enormous, relentless dark eyes, and planed his fingertips along the length of my dick. 

I whimpered.

‘Haven’t you waited long enough, hyung?’ he asked. His fingers became his palm, warm through the thin cotton.

He had the strangest look of sympathy in his eyes, and the thing was, I was starting to feel kind of scared, because this was much, much too real. I’d been telling myself for months now that seeing Changmin in any romantic or sexual way was _not okay_. That it was something that should not, would not, _could_ not be allowed to happen. And now, his hand was on my dick, and I was hard, and afraid, and he was just looking down at me with this…this _gentleness_.

I responded with my lizard brain, the fight response, and slipped into Gwangju saturi. ‘Who’s been waiting?!’ I almost shouted, pushing his hand away and sitting up angrily, but he didn’t back down—he didn’t even bat an eyelid. And he was sitting astride one of my legs, so neither of us was going anywhere. 

I glared at him, trying to translate my fear and self-loathing into fury, but it wasn’t working. I think the adrenaline was kicking in. Everything seemed surreal. Everything was too clear. Changmin was too beautiful. This scenario was impossible. It couldn’t be happening. 

I said as much. 

‘This is insane. It can’t be real. Is this some kind of hidden camera? Did the others put you up to it?’

He shook his head. 

‘Stop this, Changmin,’ I pleaded. I felt like I was going to boil over from inside, in every possible way—a man volcano, if volcanoes could be made of shame and lust and humiliation. 

This was nothing like a dream come true. It was my deepest darkest secrets being dragged out and shone under the blinding, intelligent scrutiny of the only person I had truly believed would never know. And through it all, I was providing evidence against myself that was, for want of a better word, _concrete_.

‘This is wrong,’ I said. 

‘You can be such a massive idiot, you know, Yunho?’ Changmin snapped. For a moment, he looked annoyed, like he wanted to hit me, like he would any other time we fought and he thought I was being stupid. But the unfamiliar tenderness was still there, hiding under his thick eyelashes and behind the glare. He made a noise of frustration in the back of his throat and shook his head, as though clearing his mind, then said, ‘You know what the difference between us is, hyung?’

‘What?’

‘I’m not afraid of getting what I want.’

‘What are you talking about?’ 

I don’t really know why I asked such a stupid question. Sometimes I do that. Desperation makes me wilfully ignorant.

Changmin’s eyes narrowed, and the glare went up a few degrees in temperature. Then he just heaved a big sigh, and, without warning, leaned forward and pressed his forehead against mine. 

When he spoke again, the annoyance had drained away completely, and there remained only frustration and that unfamiliar gentleness. ‘I know, Yunho. I have eyes. I know, I’ve known for a while. Just _let me help you_.’

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I was going through images for inspiration and, well, y'all have seen [this](http://40.media.tumblr.com/d1c1b16de52219c84a2ef2b56f2f6234/tumblr_ndc906hp851sdveyqo2_500.jpg) right? Idk Min just wanted to get it in there. Oh no, wait, that's next chapter.
> 
> Comments are love.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which it takes two to tango, but Changmin has to teach Yunho the steps

‘I know, Yunho. I have eyes. I know, I’ve known for a while. So just _let me help you_.’

‘No,’ I said, stubbornly, but my will was weakening.

Changmin reached up and placed his hands gently behind my head. The fingers of one curled into my hair; the other rested gently but firmly on the nape of my neck. His heat sent a rush of warmth through my nervous system straight into my brain.

A shudder rippled through me, and my lips parted at the intensity of the sensation. He took advantage of my surprise and kissed me again, coaxing, teasing me with presses of his own opened lips. He was careful, though. Each movement was slow and gentle, and at the receiving end of this unwarranted tenderness, my guilt reared its head again. But somehow, in the space of mere seconds, he was mastering the art of seduction, and each time his mouth pressed against mine the immediacy of the sensation pushed the shame little further to the back of my mind. It was only moments before I was slipping under his spell; learning a new choreography for two in which all movements were minute, but magnified by silence and tension. We were slightly mismatched; I was following the rhythm set by my heartbeat, which was slower than Changmin, who was picking up the pace, like he was dancing a tango to my reluctant two-step.

As he coaxed me into ever-deeper kisses, I could feel a new sensation building up within me. It was like my insides were thickening and pooling in my stomach. And lower. My heartbeat changed tempo, speeding up, and I could feel my breathing becoming laboured. Unbidden, instinct took over my body, and I found myself following not only Changmin’s lead but also his lips the next time he pulled away. He made me chase him, smiling, mouth open, inviting, and I raised my hands to tangle them in his long, coarse hair, pulling him close. 

He moaned in response, a deep rumble of satisfaction, and it was only then that I realised I’d taken the bait. 

He’d won.

The hand he had tangled loosely in my hair tightened. The other, he placed squarely on my chest, and with far more dexterity than I had ever credited him with, he managed to both pull and push me against the pillows again, drawing the hand at the back of my head free at the last moment. He’d managed to intuit that I’d resist him, try to sit up again, but with both his hands on my chest, I couldn’t. 

As I pressed my weight uselessly upwards against his hands, he flexed his fingers, kneading into my chest. 

His smirk had returned with a vengeance. 

‘I don’t think so, hyung.’

‘I have no idea _what_ you’re thinking, pervert,’ I retorted accusingly, but I couldn’t muster the acid to match the words—I just sounded petulant. 

Changmin raised an eyebrow slightly. ‘I think we both know who the pervert is here.’ He rolled a little further off my body and onto his side, all six foot two of him pressing against me, his breath warm and moist against my ear. _Too close, too close,_ my mind objected, like I’d trained it to, but my body was responding anyway. The thick, honey-like sensation pooling in my stomach was sliding through my loins and into my cock, like the vanguard for Changmin’s warm fingertips as he dragged them down my torso.

He was looking down my body as he did it, too; I knew, because the sweep of his eyelashes was resting on my cheek, and his warm breath was a little quicker against my ear. His moderate excitement was small comfort, though, given how strung out _I_ was feeling. 

As he moved off the plane of my chest and down my abdomen, my muscles twitched under the path of his fingertips. As he slid them under my waistband, a visible wave of gooseflesh shot down my bare legs, causing him to laugh breathlessly against the shell of my ear. ‘See? You’ve waited so long, hyung,’ he murmured, the tone almost one of praise. ‘So…long,’ he repeated, the emphasis changing as his fingers made their way along the length of my dick, the tone shifting rapidly to one of untempered appreciation.

He began to squeeze gently, each time evoking another observable rush of gooseflesh over my skin, then turned his face to press his mouth to my ear and state the painfully obvious. 

‘You’re so _hard_ , hyung. Let me help you.’

As he said this, he pushed himself against me. Like, not himself, but… _Get a grip, Jung. Call it what it is._ Nope, I couldn’t even _think_ it. When the fuck did I get so _shy_? Anyway, he pushed him…self against me, in a way I think the proverbial they might call ‘making a statement’. He was…I had never allowed myself the luxury of thinking about his…his dick before, but it was…yeah. Um. Impressive.

‘Changminnn,’ I whined, ‘My god, you’re so…’

‘Yes, hyung?’ A whisper, straight into my ear again.

‘Changmin, I…’

Changmin pulled away, and withdrew his hand from my boxers. He got up on his knees, his hard-on straining against the front of his thin sweatpants. Apparently he, too, had not bothered with underwear this evening, and as of this moment had also decided to no longer bother with his pointless singlet. He pulled it off roughly and sent it flying into some unknown corner of the room, then refocused, staring down at me. He looked like he might actually start smouldering, all heavy-lidded eyes and parted lips, his flowing long hair all over the place like he was in some kind of shampoo commercial. I stared, and I think I might have made a small sound of arousal and frustration, and this seemed to disrupt him from the reverie.

He reached over me to open the bedside table, and withdrew a concertina of small foil packaging and a tube of thick liquid.

I watched, my heart rate accelerating a little more as my brain caught up with his actions. ‘You…were…prepared?’ I asked, bewildered, and he glanced at me coyly, the first real admission of shyness I’d seen since…well, years, probably since we first met.

‘I’ve been waiting for you, hyung,’ he said softly. ‘That’s why I was…annoyed, before. I was impatient. I’m sorry. But don’t worry. I’m going to do this right.’

He set his accoutrements to the side and turned his attention back to me, clambering inelegantly to sit on his knees, and pushing his thighs under my hamstrings. I didn’t fight him, just let my legs part to make way for him, and felt the tip of his dick brushing against the underside of mine as he settled there. 

Affixing his gaze to mine, he reached for the waistband of my boxers, tugging them down. At the gentle insistence of his hands, I lifted my feet up so that he could remove them completely, and send them to join the singlet, wherever it had landed. 

He had a go at removing my shirt, too, but allowed me to finish tugging to off over my own head. I dropped it over the side of the bed, my hair now as chaotic as his, but probably much less reminiscent of a shampoo commercial, and lay back again, swallowing hard and trying to allay the nervous tension singing through me. 

He was the only one still wearing anything, and those sweatpants weren’t going to hide anything in his current state, either. Not if he was as hard as he felt. I didn’t look down between us. In all honesty, I was too embarrassed. Not by the intimacy itself, but by the nature of it—by Changmin. In the grand scheme of things, the dynamic between us had changed only moments ago, and the sense of shame I had cultivated through months of forbidden lust was far too well-established to be exorcised instantly. 

I just kept my eyes trained on his face, watching as his eyes—hungry eyes—raked down my torso. He concluded the visual tour at my crotch, and his shuddery intake of breath, and the flush that suddenly coloured his cheeks was…well, flattering, to say the least. There was a contrast that I found bemusing between the gentleness of his hands and the hardness of his…of his dick. He was so hard that the soft cotton of his pants was rubbing on one _very_ specific point, against my balls.

I cleared my throat awkwardly, and his gaze shot up to meet mine. The adjective sprang to mind again: hungry. He looked _hungry_. But when his eyes met mine again, I guess my anxiety was showing, because his face broke into a soft, sympathetic smile.

I had let my hands fell to my sides, and left them there, but Changmin reached out and took them in his. ‘Hyung,’ he said, his voice low and melodious, ‘It’s okay. We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to.’ He squeezed my palms gently in his grasp, trying to comfort me. ‘If it’s too much, we can stop.’ 

He brought my left hand to his face and kissed my fingers.

I closed my eyes. His mouth was warm and soft. His hands were warm and soft. There was only one thing that was hard...well, ha, no, there were only three things that were hard in this room. Well, no. There were only two things that were hard, plus Changmin being offensively right: I _was_ just afraid of getting what I wanted. Something that I could not only have, but that he was desperate to give to me.

I took a deep breath, then looked back into his soft mismatched eyes.

‘No, Changmin. I do. I want it.’


	4. Chapter 4

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which lubrication is key

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Kept y'all hanging long enough I guess...may the smut commence!
> 
> I guess I'd better go change that rating now.

Changmin gave me a lopsided grin. ‘That’s a relief,’ he said. Then, he leaned down to whisper into my ear. ‘ _’Cause I’ve been dreaming of sliding my dick inside you all tour, Jung Yunho._ ’

I stared past his hair at the ceiling.

I was doing a lot of staring this evening.

He leaned back and smiled beatifically at me, then down at my dick, which was now paying a whole new level of attention to this long-haired _pretender_ , this _parody_ of innocence.

As if his baby face wasn’t lie enough, Changmin chose this moment to reach down to his side and retrieve the lubricant. He squeezed a liberal amount onto the fingers of one hand, completely nonchalant, like this was something he did every day.

I passed my hand over my eyes, and muttered ‘This is too weird’ under my breath.

Smiling serenely, he shrugged and rubbed his hands together, then rested both of his slicked-up hands on my thighs. They were cool and slippery and made a soft sucking sound as they came against my skin. He slid his palms upwards, long, strong fingers splayed out and flexing none-too-gently into my aching muscles, and I groaned, half protest, half pleasure. 

‘That’s not where we _start_ , hyung,’ he said, his tone somewhere between affectionate and patronising. ‘You’re waaay too stressed out, for one.’ His thumbs slid up the muscles of my inner thigh, just as far as my pubic hair, then— _shhlip_ —back down. ‘Aigoo, aigoo…who could have done this to you? Who could have had you so wound up?’

He was beaming, the shit.

‘You little—’

‘Uh-uh. I said _relax_ , hyung.’ 

The heels of his hands dug into my quads, and my expletives twisted themselves into a fairly erotic moan as the goosebumps made a proud return across my naked skin. Changmin looked on, with apparent satisfaction, and my mind began to turn to jelly as his fingers and palms worked over my muscles. Every sweep of his hands caused his…yeah, it was still going to take some getting used to. It caused _him_ to rub against me, and it fell somewhere on the spectrum between tantalising and torturous. 

He found his way back to the top of my thighs fairly quickly, and slid his hands over, bringing them together around my dick. The sounds of his lube-slicked fingers slipping against each other and my skin were soft but clearly audible—wet, squelchy—and the lizard part of my brain took over. ‘Not enough,’ I heard myself murmur, meaning friction, but Changmin just raised his eyebrows and shrugged at me, his lips curling in the cruellest and most beautiful smile I’d ever seen.

‘I know,’ he said, with a tone of ‘obviously’.

The pressure of his hands vanished, then, as he splooged a fresh dollop of the lube onto his fingers. He rubbed them together again, humming softly. 

I watched, mesmerised, as the clear liquid slipped over his skin, mixing with the other layers of the gel, then averted my gaze as he slid one hand through my legs.  
He fixed his gaze searchingly on mine, making a distressingly smooth transition from insolence to caring and sensual. 

‘Is this okay, hyung?’

I nodded, trying to swallow my embarrassment.

Changmin slid the slick fingers of his free hand up onto my stomach, stroking my abdomen gently, working his fingers systematically over each dip and groove. 

If it was meant to be soothing, then, well…it was working; a counterpoint to the two slick fingers sliding between my ass cheeks, overwhelming me with sensations, but all of them still subtle. He was being so…restrained…teasing and stroking, and now my cock was standing so tall it could probably get local radio.

Changmin’s eyes trailed over my body again, lingering in…places. ‘Amazing,’ he murmured, the colour rising high in his cheeks again as he let out a breath of laughter that was not quite laughter and more like nervousness, ‘This is amazing. Jung Yunho, you are one hot, hard man.’ If he had looked hungry before, his smile now, the pearly white tip of his teeth toying with his lower lip, was a graduation to downright voracious.

The tip of one of his long fingers came to rest against my hole and lingered. He waited patiently, steadying his breathing, pushing only slightly, only gently, though his excitement was palpable as he felt me open up to him. He moved with me, sliding just a little way in as he felt me begin to relax.

I took a deep breath in, too, steadying myself, letting myself adjust to the unfamiliar sensation. My body and brain had very different ideas about the process, apparently, because only the latter seemed to have any real problem with the adjustment. My body itself was…surprisingly pliable. Taking its time, yes, but so…so…well… _willing_ that it bordered on embarrassing. 

Changmin, seeing all, eased his finger back out.

‘Put your feet on my shoulders, hyung,’ he said, and I did, hooking my ankles over his shoulders. They were broad, and warm, and firm, and as I looked up between my knees at his face, I had the strangest realisation: I had never felt this _safe_ before in my life.

Changmin’s eyes were wide with wonderment, as though he couldn’t believe this was happening, either, but he kept his wits about him and reached for the lube again.

‘You’re making a mess,’ I complained, as he coated his fingers again, but he shut me up fairly soon with a cold finger and a firm thrust.

I grabbed a pillow and hid my face in it. The wet, sucking sound of _my body_ , which was squeezing, tightening, trying to draw him in, seemed freakishly loud in the quiet of our room. The change in position had greatly improved access; that much was abundantly clear as he began to push in and out of me. It was still just one finger, but my loins curdled, hips rocking down to meet the gentle intrusion, and a soft groan escaped my mouth. 

Feeling the increased resistance, he slowed down. He moved his spare hand to grip my thigh and resuming a gentle murmur of soft nothings—my name, mostly, or variations on it, mingled with adjectives of pleasure and desire—and I clung to the sound of his voice as he pressed a second finger against my asshole. He had been more than generous with the lubricant; it was even easier, this time, and I heard myself groan loudly into the sackful of feathers I was keeping pressed to my face.

Changmin was having none of it, and pulled the pillow away from me with a low growl. 

‘I want to see you while I’m in you,’ he said, his voice rich and heavy. ‘I want to hear you say my name.’

‘ _Arasseo, arasseo_ (I get it, I get it),’ I hissed, punctuated by the _floomf_ of the pillow hitting the floor.

Changmin huffed, perhaps mildly irritated by my defiance. He bore into me a little deeper, curled his fingers inside me, then suddenly went still and pulled out, careful but quick.

I yelped out his name instinctively—‘ _Changmin!_ —and he grinned.

‘Better,’ he said, ‘But not as good as what you’re gonna get, hyung. I’m gonna make you _sweat_. Do you think you’re ready?’

It took me a moment to catch on. 

‘W—Oh.’

‘Can I? I mean, do you mind if I…?’

‘N—no. I mean I—yes.’ 

There was the sound of foil tearing, and my curiosity got the better of me—I lifted my heels away from Changmin’s shoulders and sat up, watching as he rolled the condom down onto his cock. It was thick and red under the translucent latex, and…

‘Huge,’ I whispered. ‘God. Changmin, hurry up before I change my mind.’

‘You won’t,’ Changmin scoffed. 

He slicked himself up as I watched, then took hold of my thigh with one hand and guided himself to slip between my cheeks with the other. The spongy head was still a little pliant, still gave a little. He changed his balance a little and took his weight onto his arms, either side of my waist, his shoulders bunching under my ankles. I relaxed and let his weight bear down on me, pushing my knees up toward my chest and exposing my hole. 

His expression became one of quiet concentration as he eased in, cautious of my sharp intake of breath.

‘You okay?’

I nodded, trying to keep my breathing steady. He was thick, and big, but he was slick, and after a moment or two my body acquiesced. There was only a moment or two of mild discomfort, and then the head pushed all the way inside me. I felt the fleshy hardness of him push in deep, and it was my turn to look up in wide-eyed amazement at how good and right and natural it felt to have him in me.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [This](http://i628.photobucket.com/albums/uu9/shouichie/homin2.png)


	5. Chapter 5

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> In which things work out for the best

Changmin stared into my eyes. 

He looked down, between our bodies, to where he was sinking into me, then looked back up, his long hair catching on his shoulders and tumbling forwards, still bearing down on me, still letting my asshole stretch around the girth of his dick, _still sliding deeper_.

‘Shit, Yunho,’ he declared, suddenly, passionately, taking my hip in his hands and gripping them like his life depended on it, eyelids fluttering closed, ‘ _Shit_ , you’re so tight, so warm…’ 

I don’t know where my embarrassment and reservations went, then, and they would come crashing back into my conscious thoughts later, but right at this moment they had gone somewhere _very_ far away. I think it was the sight of Shim Changmin—Shim fucking Changmin—on his knees on a single bed in our little hotel room, with his hair undone, no clothes on, a hot flush of red dappling his chest as he wrestled with his own instincts and urges, and his dick sliding into me, real slow. 

He looked incredible like that, the striations of his muscles straining against his skin, and the colours of exertion mottling his skin, his pale face and high cheekbones framed by the dark sweep of his hair, his full lips parted...Watching him, it was like a switch flicked, and a new Yunho…came out, if you’ll pardon the pun. 

I would associate Changmin’s parted lips with sex forevermore (at times to my detriment, and, annoyingly, his advantage).

My calves had dropped to rest on his shoulders again, but I gripped my hamstrings, just below the knee, and raised them for him, opening myself further.

His eyes fluttered open, falling on me in this new position, and a sudden bashfulness brought the flush of colour all the way up his neck.

‘I’m only half in,’ he said, his voice sounding strained and syrupy. He looked concerned, for a moment, worrying at his lower lip again. ‘I don’t…it won’t be too much?’

‘Shim Changmin,’ I said, making myself sound stern and trying to look seductive at the same time, ‘Unless you want me to ride you, I suggest you get your hips moving and _make it fucking fit_. Alright? I’m expecting to feel every inch of that damn dick.’

Changmin made a slightly strangled sound in the back of his throat, and it felt like his hands tightened even further on my hips, though that should have been impossible without his phalanges literally merging with my pelvis. But he was still hesitating, trying to make up his mind. ‘But Yunho, you’re so _tight_ , I—’

‘ _Do it_ ,’ I hissed, narrowing my eyes.

And, at the sharpness of the command, he did. He pushed his hips forward and back in an undulation that was careful, at first; I was so tight it was maybe even slightly painful for him. The strain was obvious; his eyes changed as he went somewhere primitive in his mind, his teeth coming together in an animalistic grimace. I drew in breath after breath and began to move with him; training myself, getting comfortable with the alien sensation of the wet, plasticky condom wrapped around him sliding through my sphincter. 

In the end, it did not take long at all to loosen up. The shy first inches of his hard-on slid in and out of me with relative ease; if I concentrated, I could feel the slight ripples on the surface of his cock—the veins, pounding with hot blood, matching the ones that were beginning to stand out up his arms, and down his throat. 

‘Yes,’ I whispered, letting my calves fall back on his shoulders and the dead weight of my legs pull him forwards, closer, deeper, ‘Yes—yes—hah!—Changmin!’

But Changmin was a long way past words, and his response was to tip his head forward and plant his thick, parted lips and hard, strong teeth to the crook of my neck—not hard, not biting, just _gripping_ , holding me still, and I was reminded again of animals. Dogs. Wolves. Big cats. Like I was as much prey as I was lover.

I was running out of words, too—I had lapsed into heavy, voiced panting, choking out a ragged ‘hah’ at each thrust. He began to thrust into me more slowly, but also _harder_ , and I could feel that it was almost his full, proud length now, partially because I was really beginning to feel the intrusion—my stomach was rippling not only with exertion but with the effort of accommodating him, now—and partially because his balls slapped against my butt cheeks with each push of his hips.

He kissed his way, wet and messy, down to my chest, licking and nipping at the tight tip of my nipple before fastening his teeth on the medial swell of my pectoral muscle. I could feel my orgasm looping through my stomach and collecting thickly in my balls, though, and in a weird instant of rational thought took a handful of his hair in my fist and tugged, trying to pull him away. 

He responded to the pressure, pausing deep inside of me to pull his head back and sit tall on his heels, staring down at me. He looked regal and collected, like a marble statue. Of a god.

I can only imagine how I must’ve looked splayed out under him, spread open and impaled on his hard cock. _A mess_ is probably how, but I was well past caring. I had much more pressing needs. He could see that, too, just from looking at the slit of my dick, oozing with precum. And look he did, with a wide, feral smile changing his gentle face from the innocent Changmin I knew to the…the filthy, horny man I was coming to know.

‘Huh,’ he said, distantly, and I was about to be offended, except that this was followed by one of his hands sliding under my hip to take a very firm hold of my ass, and the other around my back to rest around my shoulder. Then, without a word, he hoisted me up, pulling me over his lap in a straddling position. 

He gazed up at me as I caught my own weight, a smile tilting the corners of his mouth.

‘Go on,’ he said, the challenge in his eyes. ‘You want it? Take it.’

He huffed a laugh, smirking up at me, and I felt my hackles rising; half with excitement at the challenge, half with lust.

‘Watch me,’ I retorted, ‘closely,’ and dropped my weight onto my arms. As I lowered myself onto him, his smirk faded. His nostrils flared as he tried to steady his breathing and control himself; a muscle in his jaw began to twitch. 

I started slow, rolling down onto his cock, and picked up the tempo gradually. He began to moan as I rode him, in and out, harder and faster, and he couldn’t hold back, in the end, hips jerking upwards to meet me, his moans becoming soft and urgent—needy, in fact, before he could no longer control himself: then, his eyes slipped closed as he clutched my hips and dragged me down against him. As the angle changed, the tip of his dick nudged against the soft bundle of nerves deep inside me, and the world shifted and began to spin. 

I cried out, loudly, and Changmin repeated the movement, driving up into me with all the force he could muster until, with a final soundless cry, I felt my orgasm detonate through me, starting at the point of contact between me and him, and flooding through my stomach and my balls, culminating in a shudder from my scalp to my toes, the spasming of every muscle in my body. In a word, I came, and I came without Changmin ever touching me. And, in a split second of desperate ecstasy, I spilled my load; a sudden rush of thick, creamy cum which splashed across Changmin’s stomach and thighs.


	6. Chapter 6

As I came, my head dropped back, my mouth fell open, and my asshole convulsed, hard, around the pulsating shaft of Changmin’s dick.

He moaned in response, attempting to drive his hips upwards and pound into me. But in the slow throbbing aftermath of my orgasm, with the world spinning, it was like I was no longer even in the same dimension. I had gone heavy, and although I still held most of my own weight on my shaking arms, my weight confounded his efforts.

He subsided, giving up his futile attempts to thrust into me and whining softly with frustration. The gravel in his moan rubbing against the edges of my awareness in the same way the head of his cock, still buried deep inside me, rubbed against my prostate. The pleasure centre of my brain was already overwhelmed with the intensity of orgasm, but it registered the ongoing pressure as pale flickers of deliciousness, and Changmin’s heated whispers were music to my ears.

‘Yunho,’ he murmured, his eyes closed now, and a furrow forming between the strong dark arches of his eyebrows, ‘Hyung, please, I want—I _want_ —’

Lizard brain was definitely in charge, but it was happy to give him what he wanted.

I began to ride him again, moving up and down his shaft in careful, shallow movements to accommodate how deep inside me he was already. He made a small sound in the back of his throat—a noise that sounded like distilled frustration—and grabbed a hold of my hips again. He clutched at me as though his life depended on it: gripped tight and urging me to go faster. I resisted, contracting my muscles around his cock, and he cried out, his voice cracking, before launching into a dirty rush of urgent pleas and grunts and moans:

‘ _Ohhh_ hyung, yes—yes—that’s it, milk it for me Yunho; I want to come up inside you; I _want_ …’

The note of desperation creeping into his tone flicked a switch in me, and I gave in. I let him have it, all of me, recomposing myself enough to take control of my own mass and slam down onto his cock, our sweat beginning to mingle and my hamstrings slipping against the sticky white streaks of cum I’d left on his thighs.

His frown had intensified as I took over and impaled myself on him; his hair quivered as I rocked down onto him; teasing, rolling my hips, pulling away—

I could feel myself trembling with the exertion, but I could see that he had begun to shake a little too, so I pulled back, getting all the way up onto my knees, and he slid out of me. It was slick and weird and should have been uncomfortable, but it was actually kind of good too.

I planted my hands on his chest and shoved him back against the mattress, and he lay there looking half-angry and half-bewildered. 

This was what lust looked like.

His heart was pounding under my hands; his chest rising and falling rapidly with hurried breaths. Understanding fought its way through the swirling clouds of yearning in his eyes, and he dropped his hand to his cock, holding it still while I lowered myself back onto it, our gazes locked as though bound by inexorable, magnetic forces.

I began to ride him again, properly this time, easing my way up and down his full length and admiring the way his eyes scrunched up and his lips parted and his stomach rippled as he curled his back against the mattress, his thighs brushing up against my ass cheeks as he raised his knees, pushing against the mattress with his feet and driving into me.

It was hot, sweaty, noisy, and it was _fast_ , from then on, his fists curling into the sheets as he fucked up into me, hips bucking; me writhing and grinding down against him. 

He was so ready to cum that when he did, he didn’t even have the chance to cry out—he just came. It was obvious, of course, an instant beforehand, because his entire body curled like a steel spring or a bear trap, and I felt his muscles tighten and spasm, the entire movement culminating in a thick pulsation of his dick. Then—then he was over, lying there panting and disoriented, his hair fanning out and framing his face as an expression of bliss and total exhilaration stole across his features. Like he’d reached enlightenment, in the true, Buddhist sense.

Our dazed, bewildered stares were still locked together, out of instinct more than intent. He gazed up at me with an almost childlike expression of amazement as we regained our breath and our senses. 

Then, suddenly, his face dissolved into a smile that was so soft, vulnerable and all-around breathtaking that I nearly passed out.

Or maybe it was just the impact of all the effort I’d just made catching up with me. 

No matter.

I returned the smile with my own, and slid my hands further up his chest to his shoulders, letting my weight drop forward. 

At the sound of my discomfort, he harmonised with a wordless murmur, hands trailing down the slick of sweat on my back, suddenly a big soft heap of limbs and warmth and gentleness.

Tentatively, I let his dick ease out of me, inch by inch, and groaned and I felt its girth and weight leaving my body.

We lay there, me collapsed over him, mostly just _feeling_ everything, for a long moment. Eventually, though, he pushed at me a little, and I rolled onto my side, watching semi-consciously as he propped himself up just enough to peel off the condom. He argued with it a bit before regaining his motor skills enough to tie it off. I thought he flung it in the general direction of the bin.

I snorted a laugh at the undignified splat that interrupted the new hushed quiet of the room.

‘Did that even go in?’

‘Who cares?’

He shifted himself in my general direction and drew close, his weight half on and half off me. The movement was awkward and ungainly, like a large dog or a colt or really any large creature trying to fit itself into a new, unfamiliar space. 

No, I know: Like a giant koala. A koala the same size as the tree it wants to sit in.

'You're really something, Jung Yunho,' he said, thickly.

'You're really heavy,' I complained, but he just smiled against my chest, and pulled me with him under the tide of sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> So it begins. Hope you enjoyed it.
> 
> Requests welcome!!


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